


baby steps

by pharaohleap



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Gen, PROBABLY before the duel monsters arcs, Yu-Gi-Oh Season Zero, actually it's pretty vague where exactly this takes place but, everyone's ooc warning you now, general day to day stuff, while trying to explain the modern world to a ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharaohleap/pseuds/pharaohleap
Summary: Yugi attempts to communicate with the Other Him as the first sparks of a bond begin to form.





	baby steps

**Author's Note:**

> This is unapologetically old (like, four years old????? more than?????) and unbeta'd, so read this absolute trash pile at your own risk. I love the original Yu-Gi-Oh! manga more than I love myself, but coming up with ideas for stories has been harder as of late than it was when I was younger. Alas, all you get to show my appreciation for Card Games: The Manga Before It Was Card Games: The Manga is an old piece of mine that's probably not even deserving of being cross-posted from my FF account. This was also my first (or second?) work in the series, so out-of-character-ness is bound to happen, and I apologize in advance.
> 
> Really if you're going in expecting quality, you're sadly mistaken. Have fun, kiddos. =w=b

Yugi wasn't entirely sure when he could start sensing emotions pulsing from the depths of his mind - undoubtedly sometime earlier that week - but there was no doubt in his mind that he was feeling it now.

The morning was, sadly, cold and dark, the sun having yet to peer over the horizon's thick blanket and the world still plunged into darkness. However, there was always promise of a lighter day with every passing morning, golden streaks due to appear in the sky within the next half hour at least, so this was nothing to marvel at. Frost still picked at the edges of the window, glittering softly in the dim fluorescent lighting of the Mutou home, the temperature dropping noticeably if one were to stand too close. It appeared as though it were going to be quite the cold one that autumn school day. The sound of passing cars in front of the game store were far and few, though highly noticeable due to little sound proofing in the home and the blinding lights that flashed by the window with every vehicle that roared passed the front. In other words, it was a typical morning, nothing amiss in the humble home.

Or, at least, nothing to be  _seen_  was amiss.

A fairly short young man, not even sixteen years of age yet though looking as young as an elementary schooler stumbled down the hallway as he did every morning, hands fumbling around the wall as he searched for the restroom, eyes too blurred with sleep to be of any assistance to him now. The clock read half past five. This was certainly not an ideal time for such a teen as himself to be crawling out from under the covers and preparing himself for the day. Of course, this was ordinary routine for him by that point, so there was no point in arguing. When the nerves on his hand were no longer picking up him brushing his finger tips against the wall's hard surface, he decided that he must have reached his desired location and, slapping the wall inside said room a few times before successfully locating the light switch, his odd colored eyes were temporarily blinded by a flood of  _not_ -so-dim fluorescent lighting. Head pounding for just a moment, eyes widening fully and taking a moment to adjust to the drastic change in scenery, he set off to preparing himself for the day ahead of him.

Again, a perfectly normal morning. There was no doubt in the the tri-colored-haired male's mind, however, that it wasn't entirely normal for extreme bursts of unexplained thoughts and feelings to flood through him in such a manner as they were. And they were hardly his own, either. No, more like something that someone else was transmitting inside of him. There was no need to worry his grandfather, of course, guessing as he didn't want to bother the old man with such simple things. Well... Maybe they weren't exactly  _simple_. But, as of yet, there was no physical harm done and, hopefully, no mental, either, so there was nothing to be complaining about at that point in time. It was just a little...  _strange_ , feeling things inside him that weren't his own. Ever since this had first accured, having caught him completely off guard, he had been running through his mind for some sort of explanation. The best he could possibly muster was that it was the  _other him_  reacting to what was going on around them or trying to catch his attention.

Well, if it was the limelight the darker version of the innocent boy wanted, he was certainly getting it. It was a bit of a distraction, having the mysterious entity begin to rage about one thing or another or grow rather amused about something else at seemingly random moments of the day, his own mind wandering and trying to focus on what was going on inside his soul rather than tending to shop, listening to the lessons in class, or participating in what his friends were doing. It was a bit of a bother, really, guessing as people were also noticing his more frequent spacings. It would be easier if words were used to express... well, whatever went on in the other's head rather than distracting him with tidal waves of various feelings and such. Was it even  _possible_  for the  _other him_  to talk? Really, their connection - in addition to  _what_ , exactly, had been transferred into him as a result of solving the Millennium Puzzle was - was rather vague, communication only just beginning to start recently and in short little snippets of words and thoughts, muted as if spoken through a woolly blanket.

Ironically enough, the sense of irritation that was clawing at his heart before - perhaps at having to be awoken at such an unholy time in the morning - fell into a deep rumble, what seemed to be curiosity taking its place. Oh, that was right. He remembered now. Not only could the  _other him_  see what was going on through his eyes, but there was also a bit of mind reading of sorts going on. There were times when this was a mutual ability, though everything he managed to catch was broken and made little sense to him, and even then this was a rare occurrence. He doubted it would improve any time soon. But that was beside the point; it seemed as though the deity inside him had taken an interest him wondering just where the thoughts and feeling really were coming from. Well, if he was even right in the slightest and they  _were_  coming from whatever was inside him. Inside the puzzle.

 _If you can hear me, other me_ , Yugi thought, closing his eyes and trying to send those words anywhere he could, hoping they would reach their receiver as intended,  _... Just what are you, anyway?_

No answer. Absolute silence from the other end. In fact, the curiosity had been shot down as well, leaving him to muse about the past few occurences by himself as he would have before all of this nonsense began.

Teeth brushed and hair combed into as ruly a shape as he could manage, the short male flicked off the light, more awake before, and made his way down the stairs. The earlier the breakfast, the more he could eat without having to worry about having to shove it all in his mouth and attempt to swallow, possibly choking, as he made a mad dash for school. He, by no means, had an appetite as big as Honda's or - heaven forbid! - Jonouchi, but time to thoroughly enjoy whatever he set aside for himself was never a bad thing; just the opposite, in fact. Fetching a slice of bread or two from its bag, he tossed both into the toaster and began wondering whether or not eggs would be a good idea. When the bread sprang up out of the machine, however, there was a sudden burst of alarm that threatened to knock him off his feet, his own hand flashing out and grabbing the kitchen counter for support to prevent that from happening. This had happened once or twice before, the being being  _very_  weary of the mechanisms that went  _boing_ , but never on such an intense level as this. If things kept escalating, next thing he'd know was he would have a concussion caused by an alarmed deity within him. Or, well, whatever was causing this.

"Yeesh, you'd think he'd never seen a toaster before..." muttered Yugi, slightly amused. However, much to his surprise, a response came to him, though not the voice of his grandfather. Broken, hard to make out, but still a response.

_"_ _What... toaster... of?_ _"_

The wariness in turn had toned down noticeably, though, the closer he got to pulling out his bread, the more the sensation arose. In the end, he gave up on the toast, opting that eggs were, in fact, a good idea. Of course, after a few moments of pretending that had never happened, he had to pause and really think about it. This was the first time that he'd gotten a response to his words - an actual response, not just broken up bits of a sentence not relating whatsoever to what had just flown out of his own - and it could have very well been the last. Might as well eat the cake if it was sitting in front of him. "Er... Other me? Um... Yeah, a toaster. It... Um... Toasts. Toast. You put bread in it, you pull that little handle thing, and it warms it up for you." There was no response. For a minute, he had to ponder whether he had just imagined those three words he'd made out before. "Are you... still there...?"

Despite the fact that it was barely audible and impossible to distinguish, there was no doubt that words of affirmation had been shot his way. A small smile played on his lips, corners turning upward just in the slightest, as ideas of how to continue this dysfunctional conversation. If it was a conversation at  _all_ , though, he had to think; there was always that nagging possibility that he wasn't as mentally stable as he'd like to think, sad as it might have seemed. Finally managing to snatch his toast without the feeling of suspicion eating him alive from the inside, he returned to making breakfast for himself, though, without a doubt, his mind was still running through ways of communication.

If he was correct, Yugi should have been able to pass baton to the  _other him_  at any given time, though the "baton" was more usually ripped from his hands involuntarily. When he thought about it, when  _had_  he given control of his body by volition? Maybe twice total: once in the final stages of Kaiba's horrible Death-T plan and a second time whilst playing against a dark Bakura in that roleplaying game of sorts. Also to be noted was the fact that the second time hadn't really been him letting his other take the reigns, just him crossing his fingers and praying that his theory of the  _other him_  taking over in his absence was true. Passing back and forth to give questions and answers in turn was beginning to sound more difficult by the heartbeat, him not even entirely sure how that would work or how straining that would be on them both.

Hissing quietly to himself as the edge of one of his eggs burned over the stove, his attention was momentarily transfixed on cooking as to make sure he didn't set the entire thing on fire. Amusement trickled through his essence as a result, a scowl painting his face for a moment.

Conversing through telepathy - or, really, just thinking really loudly in his minding and hoping  _someone_  heard - was also a big no-no as could have been proven before. Speaking aloud, however, seemed efficient enough on his part. Clear words to be heard by the two of them. He could make do with that. The only question was how to get a response to whatever he was saying that he could actually interpret instead of having to assume the missing blanks. In all those ghost hunting shows they aired on television, didn't they have the same problem? All they had to do was ask the spirit to knock once for yes, two for no, and they were golden. Could something to that effect work?

 _Yeah, but I'm sure that they never had to worry about the ghost being_ inside _them_ , he thought somewhat bitterly, tossing his less than appealing concoction onto a plate and drowning it in salt. More amusement could be felt with that thought - maybe the  _other him_  had managed to pick up on some of what he was thinking. Or perhaps he was just mocking his poor eating habits; that was always a possibility as well - and, with it, sprang an idea.

"Um... Other me? Can you hear me? I think I found a way for you to talk to me. Er... sort of." a faint flicker of interest sparked, though noticeably more dim. Already, his hopes were starting to fade. "I'm going to take that as you can hear me. Um... I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions. Sort of. Um... If the answer's yes, can you try to focus all that emotion of your's? Like, happy, sad... Erm... Happy would go nice with yes... Maybe angry with no... Erm, if you can even do that. ... Can you?" While it wasn't glee being thrown his way, the sheer impact of the tidal wave of sensations that flooded over him were enough to prove that, if the other channeled the emotions, this wouldn't turn out to be such a horrible idea after all. "Oh...! Um... Cool! I, um... guess?" Idly biting into his peanut butter and jelly toast, he tried to think of what they could possibly talk about now that they had a fragile sort of connection built up. Goodness, he hoped this would get easier with time.

If the entity - still working on what exactly it could be that was communicating with him and drawing blank after blank - was unaware of a toaster's function, what else didn't it know? It could be completely clueless about anything and everything, excluding games, which it apparently excelled immensely at. As much as not knowing what, exactly, he was talking to bothered him, he supposed that sort of interrogation would have to wait for a time in which actual  _words_  could be spoken and interpreted; he was fairly certain that bursts of emotion weren't exactly going to help him find the answer. Instead, he decided he would kill the early morning's spare time before school seeing what it knew and introducing it to things it didn't. Shooting the question of whether that was alright to the  _other him_ , he received a highly delayed and almost hesitant reply of "yes", the other not quite sure how much of a waste of both their time it would be, apparently.

It could have been worse, he assumed.

At first, Yugi went about introducing everything he could get his fingers on, or, at least, point at with them, still not entirely sure what prior knowledge existed. As the emotions faded, a tiny flame of irritation sparking in it's wake, he assumed that this was because he was wasting his breath. Apples weren't a mathematical marvel or something to oogle at, after all. However, electronics most certainly caught the other's attention after he moved on from the simple, mindless things, the old computer in hid grandfather's room especially. Actually, as he stood next to the desk whilst explaining its purposes, his hand seemed to stray eerily towards the mouse as if not by his own will. While it stopped as abruptly as it started, he couldn't help but smile a bit at this. That meant he was actually making progress.

Halfway through explaining all the rare, complex games that the game store carried - extreme interest blaring from the depths of his very being with it - violet hues caught sight of the clock and a sudden realization dropped on his shoulders. The morning was dead, the sun firing red streaks across the sky and the long arms of the mechanical device claiming that, in barely ten measly minutes, school was due to begin. Tearing trough the door that connected the store to the home and slinging the bag laying on the arm chair over his shoulder, the short male made a mad dash for the outdoors, hoping that, if he ran fast enough, he could slip into class before the teacher could notice his absence and count him tardy. He tried to ignore what could be perceived as a snicker coming from within him.

 

* * *

 

"Yo, Yuge. You feelin' alright? You've been zonin' out like that all morning."

The receiver of this concern's voice caught in his through as he stopped trying to explain why there was a giant green slab - the chalkboard, if you will - attached to the wall and why numbers, in addition to letters the  _other him_  could not exactly read were written across it with chalk, hoping that the three faces hovering over him in a mixture of worry and curiosity wouldn't notice him speaking to "himself". Head shooting up to meet all of their intrigued expressions, he offered a weary smile and tried to shrug it off as nothing. By now, the teacher had taken a break from his constant drone of lectures, lunch time's safe haven being thrown over to them like a life boat would be to a drowning person. The weather had warmed up quite a bit and a gentle glow was being produced from the clear skies outside the window they were all huddled by at this point in time. However, weather conditions were the least of his concerns.

The being within him had been growing impatient throughout the span of the day, intrigued be seemingly anything and everything. When its vessel couldn't bring himself to answer, not wanting to interrupt the teacher or waste precious homework time, it only proved to enhance its irritation. It even threatened to take control for a bit if answers were not given, in which he'd hastily began whispering to himself as not to attract attention, but to ease the  _other him's_  concerns. Attention was what he got, regardless, however. Not only was he stared down by his instructor until he shut himself up, but he also managed to gain the attention of some of his mocking classmates. The few answers he'd managed to spew out seemed to do him good for a bit, but, by the time lunch had arrived, he was reduced to explaining things once more.

"I'm fine...! Absolutely fine, promise!"

By this point in time, Anzu was leaning in closer, trying to inspect her childhood friend for signs that he was ill or something of the sort. "Are you sure? You look a little tired. Did you not sleep well last night?"

"No, it's just-" Thinking over this for a bit, it would certainly suffice better than telling them he was speaking to the  _other him_  or simply going mad. And, truth be told, he  _hadn't_  sleep wonderfully the previous night. While it wasn't the main source of the issue, it certainly played a part. Deciding it was better to leave out some important facts as not to bother the three, he said quietly, ducking his head, "Well, I guess I  _could_  have slept better..."

"If you're tired, you can go ahead and take a nap or something," Honda piped up with the slightest bit of a shrug. "I mean, no one's stopping you, right?"

Shooting them each a tiny smile, pleased to be reassured that they all were still worried about his well being, he protested, "No, I'll be fine. I'll just make sure to go to bed early tonight." This seemed to work, guessing as three pairs of eyes were turned away from him and he was left to explain the remaining complexities of the classroom he spent so much time in to the source of the emotions that gave him his desired responses. There was no doubt in his mind, though, that, every once in a while, one of the three would cast him a troubled look, presumably catching onto him speaking with no visible recipient.

 

* * *

 

Before he knew what was happening, it seemed, night had descended upon the world and the final dashes of burgundy and indigo were being erased from their reign in the evening sky. The temperature was dropping and the bird call from outside his window came to a gradual halt as they all put themselves to rest as the occupants of the home soon would do themselves. The clock read seven thirty. It wouldn't be long until the doubled up game store would be just another silent haven like the rest of the neighborhood they were stored away into. To be entirely honest, most of the home was already blanketed in darkness save for the light of a side table lamp or something of the sorts. The only overhead light still shimmering in the dark was - of course - the one in the youngest of the household's room.

The day proved a tad more difficult than it possibly would have been had the  _other him_  not been prodding away at his inner most workings ever ten or so minutes, but, in the end, the spirit's mind was put to gradual ease and the constant demandings for answers to trivial questions became far and few. The teacher did not seem nearly upset with him as in the morning by the end of the school day, his practically invisible status once again returning to him. It was a tad bit difficult trying to get Jonouchi, Honda, and Anzu to stop pondering over his odd behavior, but a flick of a wrist and the slightest bit of help from whatever was inside him eventually eased their concerned minds. All in all, it could have very well been worse. And, by the way that the stream of questions had come to what appeared to be a complete stop, a day like this would not be repeated in some time.

It was a little disappointing, Yugi had to admit, to not have constant reactions to anything and everything around him like in the morning. Whatever link of sorts had started to develop seemed to have completely been shrugged off. Even this thought itself did not produce any sort of sensation from the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, only proving to reinforce his saddened beliefs. Maybe this was to be a one time opportunity? Goodness, if that was the case, he kind of wished that it hadn't involved him sloppily trying to explain things he took for granted and irritation being passed back and forth between the two when circumstances made it nearly impossible for answers to be given in the slightest. It would have been nice to at least find out a little about what was inside of him rather than have to explain everything in his own life to it. But what was done was done and there was no point trying to turn back the clock at this point in time. He was just glad that he'd managed to converse with it at all, not matter how sloppy it had to be.

As the night dragged on and sleep pulled more heavily on his shoes, the tri-colored-haired male decided it was about time for him to put away the puzzle he had been working on all throughout his time spent back at home and crawl into bed. As the final lights in the room were dimmed into nothingness and the room - as well as the rest of the household - fell into darkness' sweet cradle, however, a tiny voice caught his attention. At first, he pondered whether it was his mother or grandfather from somewhere outside his room. Of course, the voice matched neither and, as sudden realization dawned on him, he couldn't help but let the tiniest of smiles play on his lips.

It said, "Thank you."


End file.
